Friday 7 May 2010

Horse trading

I went to bed about 4am, couldn't keep my eyes open any more and just got up after the clock radio started whispering "hung parliament" in my ear. What a bonkers night, I am slightly overloaded with statistics. I might change my name to Stat-oo! Stat-oo! after this.

I can't imagine how knackered the top party staff are at the moment, blackberries burning in their hands with the amount of traffic going backwards and forwards. I've never experienced an election like this - the last time I was in my early 20's, just moved to London and living with my russian girlfriend and we were probably on the piss somewhere... plus it was a foregone conclusion, so what was the point staying up?

Its a weird institution a British election. One of the last un-commercialised bits of society, its such a long gap in between each one that it doesn't evolve at the same speed as everything else. So you have some incredibly antiquated rules, traditions and situations that are awesome to watch. Like Gordon Brown, a huge figure on the world political stage for a long time, the Iron Chancellor, the lurking figure behind the shiny Blair... standing on a chipboard podium in some Scottish scout hut, making a speech trying to maneouvre into a new term... standing next to some shaven-headed "Land Is Power" nut job, wearing Matrix sunglasses, doing a Black Panther salute (he wasn't black, he was a pasty Scot, with a ginger goatee).
Or David Cameron, lined up with the ever hopeful other candidates in his super safe Conservative seat, makes his presidential acceptance speech, finishes, steps back, starts shaking hands... first person he turns to is the Monster Raving Looney party bloke. (Leopard skin suit, massive rosette, huge hat, etc...) Awesome. The Americans would never do it like that.

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